


How I Wish to Know and Love You

by ceaselesslyinlove



Category: North and South (UK TV), North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South - Elizabeth Gaskell | UK TV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Courtship, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, idiots falling in love, maybe a reach but i hope a good reach?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceaselesslyinlove/pseuds/ceaselesslyinlove
Summary: Margaret self-reflects after the strike and realizes she cares for Mr. Thornton in a way that is quite possibly not very platonic whatsoever.How does the story unfold differently with this startling realization?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for my long absence! I am continuing my collection of "After South Married North", but I had this idea for a multi-chapter story that I wanted to put down. While I love North and South to bits, I always wanted more fluff, humor, and "getting to know you" vibes from it, so I came up with this canon divergence story to help make that wish a reality.
> 
> I have no idea how long this will be, but it starts after the strike and will probably finish right around the normal ending the book/series. As always, I mix in stuff from both the book and the mini-series because I'm a slut for both :D

Margaret lays in a state of shock, her head resting carefully against the pillow.  Her forehead is still slightly sore, a reminder of the day’s chaos.

She cannot banish the sound of the screaming workers, the feel of her arms around Mr. Thornton’s neck, and the whispers of Miss Thornton and her servant whispering over her head. She knows sleep is near impossible with her frame of mind.  
  
So she lies awake and allows herself to feel her humiliation and hypocrisy.

For years, she despised others for causing scenes, for their emotional outbursts and lack of self-control. Yet, she demanded a grown man to walk out and face his strikers, proceeded to follow him out, then threw herself over his chest to protect him, as if he were a helpless child.

She covers her face with a pillow and groans.

Servants saw and the whispers she overheard confirmed it. Tomorrow, rumor would spread that the poor southern girl had boldly laid claim to the rich master of Marlborough Mills. Why else would she throw herself onto him in such a way? If she meant to protect him, it was fruitless. If the rock had never hit her, there would only have been more. Knowing Mr. Thornton, he would not have left the fight so easily anyway.

Rumors do not bother her as much as they once did.  Her father’s situation had already pushed her into the limelight of the town and her relentless belief in befriending the mill workers did not go unnoticed by only the Thorntons.  

But this soon-to-be rumor unsettles her in a strange way. Why?

What possessed her to protect Mr. Thornton?

A part of her rationalizes that she did not like seeing him face the swarms of strikers alone. She made him rush out of the protection of his own home, alone and defenseless. Perhaps it was guilt?

“No,” she whispers to herself aloud. “Guilt drove me to follow him. But to touch him?” She shivers at the memory. Unbidden, the vision of him gently brushing her hair as he set her down on the steps comes to her memory.

She understood earlier on in their acquaintance that they held some strange attraction towards each other. At the time, she pinned it down to their opposing beliefs and life experiences. With their sole similarities of stubbornness and pride, there was an odd excitement in disagreeing with one another and fighting for the last word.

Up until now, she would have labeled that attraction as an unusual platonic one. Or up until now, she simply was ignorant of what that attraction truly meant.

_What had possessed her?_

Miss Thornton’s words come to her mind, “I know she cares for my brother; any one can see that..”

“I protected him because I care for him.”  She hesitantly tastes the words against her lips, preparing to feel the stupidity of the statement.

Except she doesn’t. A light rush of warmth seems to rush through her chest with her announcement, causing her to sit up and slowly lean against her headboard.

“I care for him,” she whispers again.  Her heart beats a little louder against her chest, and she’s reminded of a similar feeling she had for boys she fancied when she was younger. It isn’t love, but it still startles her to her core.

She reflects on her conversations with him. At what point did she go from disliking him to looking forward to his company, to wait for any comment of his so that she might rebuke him and faithfully disagree with him? Was it truly possible that along the way, her attraction morphed into something tender towards him?

The realization only worsens her predicament.  No, she did not protect him in some unladylike manipulation to marry him, but when people would gossip, they would unknowingly tell a truth…that she _did_ care for him. And his sister was right, the feeling was not reciprocated whatsoever.

The bubble of warmth dissipates rather quickly at the thought. Mr. Thornton was always clear with his disdain towards her. He kept up pleasantries with her out of his friendship with her father, but beyond that, she knew she vexed him a great deal. She recalls his cold scolding in front of all the masters at the dinner party and how his eyes flashed as she firmly scolded him back.

“No, it is impossible,” she murmurs, the ridiculous thought of Mr. Thornton even being slightly romantically interested in her jolting her back to reality.

With a sigh, she shifts back into the covers.  She would handle the rumors and insults tomorrow. Protecting her parents from any knowledge of what occurred would be her priority. She would squash this peculiar feeling for Mr. Thornton until it disappeared for good. God willing, one day she would also squash the day’s events from her memory

Hopefully, Mr. Thornton is of a similar mind with her on that wish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dialogue at the beginning of this chapter comes from the book and then the series (up until I shifted the storyline, of course!). Enjoy!

The next morning, she wakes up feeling relaxed, but not refreshed from yesterday’s events. She cares for her mother and goes about her morning the usual way, despite knowing full well that the moment she finds her way outside, her world will be different.

Despite her wish to not think of Mr. Thornton, her mind continuously finds its way to him. She wonders what he must think of her. Her foolish actions must have sunk his opinion of her even lower. In the back of her mind, she knows he’ll want to face her…perhaps scold her or demand an explanation. Whenever that moment comes, she’ll have to remain cool and collected, no matter the cost of her own feelings.

Her worst fears are confirmed when Dixon tip toes into her mother’s room, where she sews absentminded.

“Mr. Thornton, Miss Margaret. He is in the drawing room.”

She’s not prepared for him so soon.

“Did he ask for me? Isn’t Papa come in?”

“He asked for you, Miss, and master is out.”

Gathering whatever courage she possesses, she stands. “Very well, I will come.”

Without processing her steps, she moves until she lightly pushes open the door to the drawing room. She has a moment to observe Mr. Thornton unannounced, as he stares out the window to the street. It startles her how different he looks, now that she is aware of her affection. He’s handsomer, stronger, altogether better than he was a day ago, although the logic of that is silly.

Suddenly, he turns and sees her. She watches silently as he exhales, his eyes taking her in with a strange nervous energy. To her surprise, he doesn’t say anything, but moves forward towards her.  She stiffens at the feel of his coat lightly pressing against her dress, hearing him close the door softly behind her.  
  
He passes her again to position himself on the other side of the table, his stern brow hardening as he appears to struggle on how to start.  Straightening her back, she prepares herself for whatever he chooses to say.

“Miss Hale, I believe that I was very ungrateful yesterday.”

She has no clue exactly what she was expecting, but it was not this.  Keeping her hands clasped together, she forces herself to remain indifferent.

“You’ve nothing to be grateful for,” she says as plainly as she can.

“I think that I do,” he says, more firmly. Margaret realizes this may be more difficult than she hopes.

“Why, I did the least that anyone would have.”

A flash of confusion passes his eyes and he cannot answer immediately. “That cannot be true,” he replies, sounding softer and perplexed.

She must move further away to keep her stance strong.

“Well, I was…after all, responsible for placing you in danger. I would have done the same for any man there.” Her heart pounds with the falsehood of it, but by the perplexity brought upon Mr. Thornton’s face, she knows she’s hit her mark.

“Any man? So you approve of that violence? You think I got what I deserved?” His sudden anger rubs her in that familiar way that demands her defiance, although she cannot help but feel vexed that he’s jumped to frustration so quickly.

“Oh no, no of course not. But they were desperate, I know if you were to talk -”

He cuts her off. “I forgot. You imagine them to be your friends.”

_There’s no imagination about my friendship with them_ , she wants to angrily reply, but holds her tongue. The conversation is steering into a path she does not want to take. With her father or other people present, their arguments could remain on somewhat peaceful grounds. But it’s just the two of them, and she feels the fear of this uncharted territory.

She shakes her head lightly to shake the feeling away, not really noticing that she’s approaching him.

“But if you were to be reasonable?”

“Me? Are you saying that I’m unreasonable?” Why does he insist on arguing with her, the one time she’s trying so hard to remain calm? She hates how he’s looking at her, equally angry and annoyed, as if she were the one in the room being unreasonable.

She sighs in vexation, trying again. “If you would talk with them, and not set the soldiers on them, I know-”

“They will get what they deserve,” he firmly cuts her off once again. He seems to regret the harshness of it, looking down and blinking several times…almost as if he were accosted by sudden nerves.

She wants to hate him for his reply but finds herself otherwise distracted as he takes a step towards her.

“Miss Hale, I did not come here just to thank you... I came because... I think it very likely -- I know I've never found myself in this position before. It's difficult to find the words…”

As he speaks, she feels her heart sinking like a rock and realizes in equal embarrassment and sadness, that he has most definitely not come here to lecture her or demand some sort of explanation from her. It’s worse than either of those.

Marriage. He needs to marry her in order to save her. To save her family from her foolish actions and reduce the rumors against himself.  She feels almost ill. How twisted that she should realize her care for this man only for him to appear before her and propose a loveless marriage out of sheer duty.

She can’t hear it. She can’t possibly hear it. She can’t bear to hear whatever the proposal entails, or she may not stand to be composed much longer.

“Miss Hale, my feelings for you are very strong,” he’s continuing. God, she must stop him immediately, before he crushes her.

“Please, stop. Please don’t go any further,” she sounds fragile, like a weak animal.

“Excuse me?” He’s startled, but she’s barely paying attention to him. She needs to get him out, before she’s hurt.

“Please don’t continue in that way,” and then, as if out of nowhere, “It’s not the way of a gentleman.”

She hopes the comment will sting, as awful as it is. But if she hopes to send him away with an insult, she cruelly remembers that this isn’t just any man. He’s John Thornton and he won’t back down from any insult without a fight.

He’s clearly hurt and angered as he moves to face her again. “I'm well aware that in your eyes at least, I'm not a gentleman. But I think I deserve to know why I am offensive.”

Choking down her own guilt, she tries again, “It offends me that you should speak to me as if it were your  _duty_  to rescue my reputation!”

He’s leaning his hands against the table, looking directly into her eyes, “I spoke to you about my feelings because  _I love you_! I had no thought for your reputation!

“You think that because –” She stops, her ears finally catching up with a certain phrase she almost swore she made up. “Wait, what did you just say?”

He pauses, his brow creasing at her sudden loss of hostility. Her heart is racing.

At his lack of a response, she grasps the chair in front of her. “Did you just say you love me?”

The word seems to break his silence. He stands upright, not breaking eye contact with her, as he says, almost defiantly, “Yes. Miss Hale, I love you.”

A million thoughts rush through her mind at such a statement. She knows she’s gaping at him, almost in shock. The side of her that fancies him is overwhelmed, but her logic stands stronger.

“I thought...I thought you hated me,” is all she can utter. Out of everything floating in her head, and that’s all she can manage to say.

It’s his turn to gap, his brow creasing even more if possible. “No! How could you…when have I made you assume…”

She almost wants to laugh at how unnaturally speechless they both are. His nerves help her to pull way from her shock. “Mr. Thornton, I do not think it’s new knowledge to anyone that I tend to vex you in most of our conversations. I consistently disagree with you, we trade stern words with each other, and then we leave each other angry.”

“That is rather the reason why I came to love you, Miss Hale,” his posture slightly relaxes, an almost sardonic smile on his face. “No woman has ever challenged and frustrated me as much as you do. Every week when I came to your home, I would hope you would be there. That you would speak with me about anything, even the many things you disagreed with me on. I wished…I hoped to know you better that way…I suppose I have loved you for a long time.  When I saw the blood on your face and your body against the ground…I knew…Miss Hale.” Her name sounds rough, but not unpleasant against her ears, and she feels shivers run down her spine at the intensity of his declaration.

Staring down at the table, she recollects every moment spent with him. Was it true? With every argument she threw at him, had he been slowly falling in love with her?

Still wanting to guard her heart, she looks up again to meet his eyes. “I do have every reason to believe you are just here to save me from my actions yesterday. You’d be protecting both of us, my family, and yours from all the rumors that are currently spreading.”

To her surprise, no anger crosses his face. Only a look of deep regret as he takes another look over her, as if memorizing. “I realize that this was not proper timing. Yesterday, you appeared dead before me.  I knew that I couldn’t live another day without just trying to show you I cared and hope that I could make you happy, despite my knowledge that you could not care for me back. I know my feelings for you offend you, but I will not apologize for loving – ”

“You have not offended me,” it’s her turn to interrupt him, almost surprising herself.

“Miss Hale, forgive me, but you have just told me otherwise.”

She sighs, knowing she’ll never forgive herself if she doesn’t come clean now. “When you first came here today, I assumed you would want to lecture me on my foolishness. But then you began to propose, and I then assumed you were here to rescue me with marriage,” she hesitantly looks up to him, seeing him clearly absorbing her every word. She takes in one last final breath of courage. “You’ve been more than a gentleman to me and my family, and I…I really don’t see myself protecting any man facing an angry mob.”

He draws in a breath. She’s never seen him look so utterly vulnerable. “Miss Hale…is it possible?”

Maybe it’s his hopeful countenance, maybe it’s the exhausted calm after their heated argument, but either way, she nods slowly. “I…I do care for you. I can’t profess to love you…but I do care. But it’s not fair to either you or to me. We…” she’s losing her confidence “…Mr. Thornton, we disagree on nearly everything. I can count on one hand the number of conversations we had where we it didn’t end it in a fight. We don’t even know each other well beyond those arguments!”

A sudden vision of Frederick passes her mind and she wonders what Mr. Thornton would have to say about that.

“You must see why I can’t simply say yes?”

Any other woman would be thanking him and offering her most beautiful words of love to him. She wishes more than anything to truly know her heart in this moment, but it remains firmly clueless.

Mr. Thornton continues to surprise her. With a look of decisiveness, he moves around the table, cautiously as to not frighten her, and places out his hand.

“May I?”

Confused, but curious, she extends her hand. He takes her hand carefully, positioning it so if he were to bend down, he would kiss it. The thought makes her blush.

The next words out of his mouth are unexpected, to say the least.

“Miss Hale, I retract my proposal and offer a new one. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignore the second bottom note. I can't figure out why it won't stick to the first chapter alone, apologies!
> 
> Next chapter will continue right where we left off! Thank you for reading and please leave a comment or kudos if you feel so inclined!
> 
> And yes I know I cut out the iconic "I don't wish to possess you," line but don't worry, it'll make an appearance.

**Author's Note:**

> A short first chapter, but you all know what happens the morning after the strike, so that will be much more in-depth!
> 
> I really went back and forth for awhile, thinking about how probable it was that Margaret would become self-aware of her interest in Mr. Thornton. I think the show makes it more obvious that she does harbor some restrained romantic interest in him before the strike (see: Margaret discussing Thornton with Nicholas and Bessy, and that whole dinner party handshake scene). The book really only mentions Margaret's attraction to Thornton once earlier on, and then there are a couple moments of her observing him that aren't very platonic, but it's not as hyped as in the show. I hope this doesn't feel too ooc at the end of the day.
> 
> Please leave a kudos or comment if inclined!


End file.
